


Thaw

by beignetsallday



Category: Me Before You (2016), Me Before You - Jojo Moyes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beignetsallday/pseuds/beignetsallday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vignette of those early, rare moments where Lou’s efforts are not met with contempt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thaw

The annex is mostly silent as Lou steps in from the cold drizzle. Nathan looks up from washing his hands at the sink, scrubbing to his elbows. 

“Morning.”

Lou returns the pleasantry. Nathan’s morning visit usually overlaps with her daily arrival and she is grateful for the company, no matter how brief. Nathan is wearing violet scrubs, and Lou absently wonders how many sets he wears in a day. Summoning a smile from her deeper reserves, Lou sets her bags on the counter. “How is he today?”

Nathan finishes drying his forearms with a towel. “Not bad. Not sure how long the weather will stay, but try and get him outside if you can. It was a long weekend.”

Lou has begun to learn Nathan’s shorthand that comes from two years of the Traynors’ employ. “Long weekend” might mean a weekend of verbal abuse from Will or long hours of silence and glares. Lou nods, glancing out the kitchen window. “I’m up to it.”

Reaching for his bag, Lou watches Nathan’s own knowing smile emerge. “Good for you Lou. See you at noon.” Lou waves goodbye, before turning back to the kitchen.

The weather doesn’t budge. The drizzle and cold wind splatter the windows as Lou moves around the apartment, laundering, folding, dusting, and checking on Will. He hasn’t moved from the window since Lou arrived, although she occasionally hears the whir of his chair.

Around 11:00, Lou takes a cup of water, a book on DIY fabric necklaces, and her best wide eyed smile into Will’s sitting room. Her offer of a drink is met with a clipped “no,” and her offer to make a necklace with yellow gingham swatches is met with no response at all. Lou recently decided that “not chatty” does not include banishing herself to any room Will Traynor does not occupy. Feeling both cheerful and vaguely subversive, Lou seats herself on the couch and starts reading about repurposing fabric for fashionable ends. Will ignores her entirely. 

Like a black and white film, they sit in silence. But old habits die hard.

“You know, I think Treena might actually wear this one.” Lou turns the book around and shows Will a picture of a relatively delicate blue bracelet made with linen and contrasting thread. Will glances her way and back to the waving branches beyond the window in under a second. “No? Yeah, maybe not.” The plastic wrap of the library book crackles lightly under her touch. “We’ll find something in here.”

Another few minutes of silence pass. Will stares at the window and Lou tries to find something to match the green cardigan with the white and silver zebras.

“How about this-” Lou begins but is quickly cut off by a sharp voice.

“Please leave.”

Lou pauses, considering her options. On one hand, she can respect Will’s insistence on solitude, and on another, she promised Nathan to break the monotony. 

“No.” Lou fights the butterflies rising in her stomach and decides she can make this stand.

“Excuse me?” Will sends a glare across the short distance between his chair and the sofa. 

Lou considers her next words a little more carefully than usual. “You’ve clearly been inside all weekend. I doubt you’ve washed your hair in a week. Your own plans and advice are terrible, so why not try mine for once?” Lou feels immediate pride for this proclamation. Will’s response is predictably bitter.

“First off Clark, I haven’t washed my hair in two years. Second, you’re not here to order me around. And third, the last thing I need or want is ending up in bed for another week because I was stupid enough to walk around in the rain.” He jerks his gaze back to the window.

Lou feels the pride deflate, but considers her options. “So have-”

“So help me God if you say have a cup of tea I will roll this chair into the fireplace.”

Lou shuts the book with a clap. “I was going to say, so have a crack at a different view at least.”

The proposal is met with more silence, which is not necessarily a refusal. Lou decides to sweeten the pot. “And if you do, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

Bingo.

Will turns his chair to face Lou. “Fine. Where am I sitting now?”

Lou’s plan is already half formed. “The kitchen window. The trees are beginning to blossom.”

Without a word, Will directs his chair out of the sitting room and into the kitchen, maneuvers around the table and faces the bank of windows on the other side. She hears his sigh as she grabs the umbrella with the pea pods and blue polka dots.

Twenty seconds later, Lou is outside in front of the kitchen window, shod in boots and rain gear. Will stares at her like half of her frontal lobe has failed, a slight hitch in his left eyebrow.

Lou tries her hand at faking a staircase in front of the window. Not bad, and Will is still watching. Round two is rowing a canoe across the white pebbles of the front drive. Lou is delighted with her ingenuity. On the way back, Lou tries a handstand that leaves her semi-soaked in the drizzle and which unintentionally turns into a cartwheel. She never claimed to have coordination. A few moves later, and Lou can see Will is actually still facing the window. For her grand finale, Lou tries a roundhouse kick she once saw Patrick pull off. As she lands squarely on her pink plaid leggings, she sees Camilla Traynor exiting her sedan with a face one might describe as both perplexion and horror. For want of a better ending, Lou neatly curtsies to the kitchen window and scurries back into the house without further eye contact with Traynor senior.

“So?” Lou is mildly breathless, but pleased with the overall result. Will rotates his chair and faces her with the same look of mild distaste.

“Next time, less canoe.” And with that, Will wheels away, back toward his sitting room. 

Despite having played the court jester, Lou is pleased. She grabs a towel to dry her pony tail and starts to shrug out of the raincoat. This time, when she retrieves her book, Will ignores her, but without a scowl.


End file.
